


After the Battle

by butterflyslinky



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, Hinted Bashir/Garak, Mentioned violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9371777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyslinky/pseuds/butterflyslinky
Summary: Cardassian banter never stops. Dr. Bashir is not in the mood for it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [После боя](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10964721) by [Kristiania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristiania/pseuds/Kristiania)



> Takes place at the end of Way of the Warrior.

The last of the Klingons beamed out, their fallen comrades taken out shortly thereafter. Garak slowly lowered his phaser and glanced at Dukat, who was lowering his batlath. “Well, that could have gone worse,” Garak said pleasantly.

“You’ve certainly looked worse,” Dukat agreed. “The blood is a great improvement.”

“Yes, I agree,” Garak said pleasantly. “It’s quite the fashion around here; do you want me to add a bit to you?”

“I think my broken ribs and hand will have to suffice,” Dukat said. “Now where’s that pretty doctor of yours to patch us up?”

“I suspect he’s attending to everyone in ops,” Garak said. “Or else he’s dead, and unfortunately not by your hand.” He gestured forward and they headed for the infirmary. Garak was limping a bit and Dukat winced with every step, but they seemed mobile enough. “Still, I suppose he’ll save you. Something about an oath all Starfleet doctors take to save everyone.”

“Pity,” Dukat shot back. “He could have killed you years ago and made it look like an accident.”

“Except that Doctor Bashir actually likes me,” Garak said.

“Wait until the mystery wears off,” Dukat said. “Then see how much he likes you.”

They reached the infirmary before Garak could think of a retort. It took a few minutes before one of the Bajoran nurses got to them. It was a mark of how serious the battle had been that she only gave them a brief look of irritation before she found them beds at the back. “Doctor Bashir will be with you soon,” she said, and went back to the other patients.

“He runs a very inefficient field hospital,” Dukat commented. “He should have set up on the Promenade where there would be more space.”

“It doesn’t take him too long to attend on his patients,” Garak point out. “He is a most efficient and competent doctor.”

“And I bet you get injured often,” Dukat muttered.

“Why would I be injured often?” Garak asked. “Just to see him? Because I assure you, I do not need an excuse to get the doctor to see me.”

“No,” Dukat said. “But you do run your mouth and annoy just about everyone you meet. I’m surprised no one’s managed to kill you yet.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Garak said. “But most of the people who want me dead are incapable of outwitting me. Present company included.”

Dukat glared, but at the moment Bashir came over to them, looking rather harried and exhausted. “All right, what’s the damage?” he asked.

“I believe I just defeated Gul Dukat in a battle of wits,” Garak said. “Though to be fair, he was unarmed.”

Bashir gave him a glare. “I meant physical injuries,” he said.

“I believe I’ve broken my ribs and hand,” Dukat said. “I think Garak is suffering from a head injury.”

“I am suffering from no such thing!” Garak protested.

“Really?” Dukat asked. “Because you seemed to be laboring under the impression that you could outwit me.”

Bashir was looking very annoyed now. “You two can banter later,” he snapped. “Right now I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

“You’re dealing with a child,” Garak muttered.

“I can see that,” Bashir said. “In fact, I’m dealing with two children. Now, Garak, where are you injured?”

“I’ve taken a few lacerations,” he said. “And I believe I’ve sprained my ankle.”

“Thank you,” Bashir said. He picked up his scanner and started looking Dukat over.

“Why are you scanning me?” Dukat asked. “I told you what’s wrong.”

“I’m just making sure there are no additional injuries,” Bashir said patiently. “Unless you want to be sent home in pieces.”

“Oh, please do that,” Garak said. “I hope he’ll catch an infection and die.”

Bashir’s jaw tightened for a moment. He set down his scanner and picked up a shot of hypospray.

“I don’t think that’s necessary…” Dukat began, but he fell silent when Bashir turned and pressed it to Garak’s neck, knocking the Cardassian unconscious. “Well. Thank you, Doctor. He was rather annoying, wasn’t he?”

Bashir raised his eyebrows and grabbed a second shot. Before Dukat could protest, the doctor injected him and knocked him out.

“Nurse,” Bashir called. “I’m going to patch them up. Once that’s done, will you kindly beam Gul Dukat back to his ship?”

“Yes, Doctor,” the nurse said. “Should I wake him up first?”

Bashir smirked. “No,” he said. “Every good doctor knows that rest is imperative for patient recovery.”


End file.
